


A Distant Someday

by bowandaero



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bodyguard Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Metaphors, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 07:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowandaero/pseuds/bowandaero
Summary: There is a hopelessly childish part of Zelda that wants to believe in the impossible: that love was more powerful than curses. That perhaps her bondage to fate had already ended, and this time, finally...
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	A Distant Someday

**Author's Note:**

> The conceit of this story is that Ganon is still yet to return (despite the conditions having been met), which has left our protagonists wondering about their future. It isn't related to any game in particular but does assume you're familiar with Demise's curse and the resurrection cycle.

There is a slug on Princess Zelda's arm.

She doesn't know how long it's been there, nor how it _got_ there, but what Zelda does know is the intolerable nature of the situation. She decides to express her displeasure in the best way she knows how:

"AGHH!"

Zelda jumps off the garden bench and starts dancing on the spot. Link, her personal guard and sole escort for the afternoon, is plainly alarmed.

"What? What's wrong?"

"A slug!" she gasps. "A slug on my—!"

The expression on Link’s face becomes strained. He lifts a hand like he intends to help her but uses it instead to cover his mouth.

"It’s not funny!” Zelda's eyes are watering. “Get it off me! Please!”

And so Link comes to the princess' rescue: he brings himself to his feet, calmly catches Zelda's wrist to make her stop thrashing, then closes in on the slug and plucks it away.

"I've got it," says Link, restraining the beast inside his cupped hands. "I'll put it over near the roses for you."

"Thank you. Just do it quickly, please."

Zelda observes from a safe distance as Link approaches the bushes and squats down to the ground. Turned away from her like he is, he allows himself a chuckle.

"I don’t know why you panicked. Slugs are completely harmless, you know."

"To you and me perhaps." Zelda removes her handkerchief from her pocket and starts scrubbing at her skin—oh, if only she’d worn long gloves today! "If slugs really _were_ harmless then I doubt the gardeners would be at constant war with them..."

"Hang on a minute."

"What?"

Link has stood up and turned round again, eyebrows raised in askance.

"You had your handkerchief with you the entire time?”

“Yes, why?”

“Couldn’t you have gotten the slug off yourself?”

Zelda takes momentary pause.

"I suppose I wasn’t thinking."

This time Link laughs outright, though the sound of it is so bright and infectious that even Zelda can’t help but smile.

"Quit it, you!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Link and Zelda have long shared a friendship that kept the royal court talking behind their hands. When pressed about it, Link will insist that they're simply close friends and confidants, and Zelda, for her part, will insist there's nothing unnatural about people of similar age, experiences and temperament getting on. So what if they enjoyed the time they spent together in private, meandering the castle grounds as they often did? Must it mean that they were entangled in some all-too-obvious love affair? That they had transgressed the boundaries of princess and loyal protector?

The problem is that not so deep down, Zelda wishes the rumors were true.

Unfortunately, it is only in her daydreams that Zelda can envision herself spending the rest of her life with Link, and not in the way that they are now. Yes, it is only in daydreams that she and Link aren't trapped within this ancient and terrible cycle, a cycle that has brought her kingdom to the brink as many times as it has claimed the life of her tender-hearted hero.

Don't let those silly thoughts fill your head, Zelda reminds herself. That fortune had brought them together in this lifetime could only mean one thing: Ganon's resurrection was coming.

“It won’t bother you any more, Princess,” Link says, bringing Zelda out of her thoughts. She nods and makes a motion to have Link rejoin her on the garden bench.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that out of the millions of places it could’ve gone oozing, why did it have to ooze on _me?”_

"Maybe it was fate," Link says whimsically. Zelda rolls her eyes.

“Whose fate? My fate to be oozed upon, or the slug’s fate to meet an unhappy princess?”

“Can't it be both?”

“Well, maybe the slug shouldn’t have troubled itself if it was only going to be rejected.”

“But what if it only wanted a moment of your company?”

“Now you’re just being silly.”

“I know.”

Link scuffs the heel of his boot on the ground; Zelda’s heart swells, but knows that Link only means to improve her mood, so she looks away and stays silent. She notices that grey clouds are starting to roll in from the east and wonders if even nature is determined to ruin the limited time they had to themselves.

“We should return to the castle," Link advises, rising from the bench. "It's been so rainy recently—no wonder there's slugs about."

"Maybe the storm won't come this way," says Zelda hopefully. Though from the direction the clouds are moving, there's little chance of that.

"I know you don't want to go back so soon," surmises Link, "but—"

"You're right, I don't." Zelda stands also. "How about we head for our secret spot? Or anywhere we won't be found for awhile."

"I'll be the one in trouble if we end up stranded by the rain, you know."

"Not if I take responsibility."

The corner of Link's mouth turns up.

"That's not how it works, Princess. Protecting you is my job."

"But the rain can't hurt me—about the most it can do is ruin my dress. Is that not so?"

"...Yes, Princess."

"Then come with me."

Link sighs and casts his gaze around as if looking for an excuse.

"Alright. Let's go from here either way—it looks like we've got company again."

Zelda’s eyes follow Link's gesture towards the ground. Realizing what it is, she jumps towards him.

“Another slug!”

“It might even be the same one,” Link adds, like Zelda is meant to tell the difference.

“Let’s just go already!”

This time, at least, Link obliges her without further debate.

* * *

The Hyrule Castle grounds are not just enormous but famously easy to get lost in. They are in the sixteenth of seventeen different sections—nine flower and vegetable gardens, three fountains, four memorials, and one labyrinth—which means they aren't far from the ancient forest that encloses grounds, dotted with ruins from ages long past. Zelda’s favorite among these ruins, by far, is a stone temple made wild with the passing of time, vines and ivy tightly crisscrossing over the crumbling stone walls. It's a shame, she always thinks, that after so many catastrophes have befallen Hyrule, not even an oral history of the building had survived.

“Good timing,” Zelda murmurs. The drizzle turns into a downpour soon after they duck inside the entrance.

“Are you avoiding some duty or chore in particular, Princess?"

Zelda follows Link's gaze down the temple’s dark inner hall. It was a habit of his to always take in his surroundings and remain vigilant on behalf of his charge.

“No, nothing in particular. It’s just that if we go back to the castle, I know Impa would find something to keep me occupied…”

Link gives a patient smile but doesn't say anything more.

“Do you remember that time we tried climbing to the top?” Zelda asks, fishing for a topic of conversation. “You fell off and broke your wrist.”

Link nods.

“And then _you_ nearly fell too, remember? Because you were scrambling down after me to try and help.”

“Yeah, and then rather than let me fix it with magic, you refused because you wanted someone qualified to do it! But that meant we had to admit what happened at the infirmary.”

“Healing magic can go badly wrong. I just wanted my wrist to work properly afterwards, thank you very much.”

Zelda crosses her arms, pretending to be offended.

“How can you have so little faith in your princess?”

“I have plenty of faith in you when it comes to other things.”

“I know, I’m only teasing. I used to be convinced that I was infinitely talented in magic, you know—what a mistake it was to inform a teenaged girl she was the reincarnation of a goddess!"

Link snorts.

"I thought you were only suspected to be?"

"Well, considering I somehow knew the Master Sword would choose you to wield it..."

"Fair point."

Zelda realizes the bottom of her dress is getting dripped on so she uses this as an excuse to retreat to Link's side. He doesn't acknowledge her doing so; he relieves himself of the baldric on his shoulder and leans his sword up against the archway instead.

"Planning to be here a while?" Zelda teases.

"Looks like it."

The taciturn response doesn't feel right to the ear.

"Why have you become troubled suddenly, Link?"

"It's because of what you said," Link admits to her. "I don't know about you, but once the feeling of being special wears off, don't you just feel incompetent?"

“Oh come now, what's this about incompetence? I haven’t died yet, have I? I’d say you’ve done well enough.”

“I was really talking about other areas of my life."

"Oh?"

Unfortunately, to Zelda's knowledge Link didn't really _have_ much of a life outside of his duties to the crown. His father and grandfather had been part of the royal guard too, once upon a time, and Link liked to claim he'd rather unthinkingly followed in their footsteps. The fact that Zelda had first become Link's charge the same winter that her mother passed had just been coincidence.

"For example—do you think I should get married?”

Zelda sputters.

“You want to get _married?”_

“Not in particular,” says Link quickly. “But hear me out—there’s someone who’s been strongly hinting she’s got feelings for me, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Zelda feels herself succumbing to panic just as quickly as the rain had come in.

“Please don't,” Link pleads. “I’m only bringing it up because you’re a girl too and you might—I don’t know. Maybe you'd know what to tell her.”

“But I don’t know the first thing about her!”

“Her name is Malon. I know I've mentioned her already—her family's land is right by ours and we used to play together as children. We don't have much time for each other anymore, but since I still buy from their market booth and ask how things are going, I think Malon’s misreading the situation. The last time I went, her father even gave us his blessing.”

Zelda remains dumbfounded.

"The problem is that I don’t hate the idea,” Link says. “I can’t say that I love Malon in that way, but aren't we getting too old to not have plans for the future? I’ve been content to have my life revolve around you so far, but...”

He falters. Zelda’s chest feels tight. She wonders if he means to say that he wished he could escape his destiny of living and dying for Hyrule, even though he knows he can't. Maybe marrying a normal girl—or absconding back to the countryside even—would at least allow him to pretend.

“I’m sorry,” Zelda says inadequately. “I didn’t know your thoughts were preoccupied with something so heavy.”

“I’m not leaving you,” says Link, backtracking. "That's not what I'm trying to say."

 _Of course not. You couldn't even if you wanted to._ Zelda pastes on a smile ahead of what she means to say next.

“Please just do whatever makes you happiest, Link. Whatever it is you want to do, you have my permission."

"If only it were that easy."

Zelda nods. Nothing was easy when you were a part of something bigger.

“I know that we don't truly have a choice, but I still cherish the time we spend together, you know."

"Thank you, Princess."

"I think...” Zelda hesitates. “Wouldn't it be nice to think we might've met each other for different reasons?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what if Ganon _doesn't_ come back? Not this time, at least?"

Link sighs before answering.

"I don't think it helps to speculate about alternative explanations," he says kindly. "It's just taking a while, is what I think."

"I know I'm being silly," Zelda admits. She knows she's in dangerous territory, too, but forges ahead anyway. "But still, isn't there an appeal in thinking maybe you and I could be brought together for reasons besides fighting?"

"Maybe, but I think having our freedom would be better." Link shrugs. "Or maybe I've just got a sour attitude about destiny."

"Would you have rather we met each other by coincidence?"

" _Is_ there such thing as coincidence, when it comes to you and me?"

The sound of rain keeps pattering over their heads.

"I'm not sure," Zelda says.

"Me neither. Speaking of—what is it that you propose we do now, Princess?”

“What, in general?”

“No, about being stranded by a storm.”

“Oh.” Zelda pokes her head into the entranceway again just enough to better see the sky and swirling grey clouds. “Accept the reality of getting ourselves soaked, I suppose.”

"You want to go back so soon? This was your idea."

"Well…"

"The slugs will be waiting for you out there, you know. And the worms, and the snails…”

“Quiet, you. I just don’t want to cause a panic if we’re stuck here until morning.”

“Did I not try to talk you out of this already?”

“I know, I know—I’m always causing you trouble.” Zelda taps the toe of her slipper against the ground. “Well, if we decide to stay here a while, shouldn’t we at least check that the temple isn’t housing anyone else at present?”

“I’d considered that as well—there could be anything from wild animals to apparitions waiting for us further inside. We can’t very well check without light to see by, though.”

“Don’t worry—I’ve got a solution.”

Zelda presses her palms together, blows into the space in between, then folds them open like a book. A bright orange flame ignites in the air just above her hands.

“Din’s Fire?”

“Yes. And I’ll give you some to hold as well.”

Zelda separates her hands and the flame splits into two. She tips one onto Link’s open palm.

“Put your hands together again if you want to put it out,” Zelda instructs him. “Just do it fast or else you’ll burn yourself.”

“Right. Thank you.”

“Shall we go together then?”

Link is supposed to draw his hand back now, yet his fingers are linger against hers for a little longer than necessary.

“Accompanying you is my duty, Princess.”

“Thank you.” The words are overlapped by an echoing rumble of thunder. “Come with me, Link.”

“Of course.”

And so they depart.

There is a part of Zelda that is every bit the wise and noble princess she was born to be. A part of her that knows some day she will abandon the title of princess and become, instead, Queen Zelda. Some day she will marry a foreign prince and bear his children, and then she would live and die in the same way as her great-grandmother, and every other Hylian princess who had borne the name Zelda before her. She knows this because it has already happened thousands of times over, and would continue to happen, indefinitely, just as surely as Ganon would return.

Yet there is also another part of Zelda, a hopelessly childish part that wants to believe in the impossible: that love was more powerful curses. That perhaps her bondage to fate had already ended, and this time, finally...

The other part of her doesn't approve of such nonsense. Zelda pinches her mouth into a hard line, forcing herself to banish the thought.

Rain drizzles down through cracks in the ceiling as Zelda and Link move further down the hall with their twin flames. A stone altar, as well as a relief depicting the Goddessess and the Triforce comes into sight—the only features of the inner temple to not be either destroyed by time or carried away by plunderers. Zelda supposes the entire structure must have once been protected by ancient magics, yet it has existed so long that now even those were fading.

“I always wonder what happened to this place.” Zelda traces a line through the thick dust built up atop the altar. “The temple must have been considered a holy site at one point, right? So how did somewhere so important end up so forgotten? How was it just left to crumble?”

“Good question.”

Zelda regrets choosing this moment to look up at the dimly lit ceiling, as the sound of rolling thunder just makes her imagine it collapsing on top of them.

“On second thought—do you think I _should_ pray?”

“If you’d like.”

Zelda casts her gaze over her shoulder to see Link with his eyes set on the ceiling too. 

“Is something troubling you again?”

Link sighs. He sets his shoulders straight and looks at his charge. 

“You know that we have to go back sooner or later.”

“I know.”

“So... either you ought to come back with me, or I ought to at least go back alone to tell Impa where you are. I can’t control whether she decides to come drag you back afterwards, but…”

“Do as you will.”

Link hesitates, apparently having expected her to put up more of a fight.

“You know I don’t want to. It's just that I can't be making excuses, either.”

“I know. I'm sorry—you shouldn't have to indulge me when I’m feeling selfish.”

Link seems thrown off balance again. He clears his throat.

“Shall I go by myself, then?"

"You may. I need a little time still."

"Alright. Then I’ll make sure to come back for you soon.”

"Okay."

Link turns around, flame held high, and goes back to fetch his sword. Zelda looks away before he departs, suddenly ashamed by her own stubbornness.

 _What's the use of pretending?_ _We can struggle all we like, we run away for a while and put it out of mind, but until the curse is truly at its end..._

Zelda pushes her flame onto the altar with these dire thoughts in mind. She gets down on her knees, pressing her hands together in want of a secret wish.

In the years since Zelda first learned of her destiny, and of the curse that plagued her, she had found but a single source of hope: time. Just as living things die, just as temples crumble and stars dim, so too was even the darkest magic destined to fade. And while it may not happen in this lifetime, while it may not happen in a thousand lifetimes, time itself would bring an end to it all. They could have their freedom afterwards, and then...

 _Afterwards_. That great, unknown future. Would they find happiness there, in the afterwards? Would it be worth the pain? Would it mean the end of these fated meetings, of life spent hand in hand? Was it selfish to hope that it wouldn't be?

The sound of footfalls grow louder and louder, echoing against the walls. Zelda's mouth falls open as she turns to see Link miraculously returned to her, breathless, hair and shoulders soaked by rain.

“Forgive me, Princess,” he says helplessly. “I couldn’t do it.”

Zelda exhales with laughter.

“Welcome back.”

One day, inevitably, the curse would break. One day there would be no more legends, no more existential threats to the kingdom, no more heroes to emerge from the storm.

Zelda holds on to hope that afterwards won't truly mean the end. She hopes that they can meet again someday, perhaps under fairer skies.


End file.
